Love is Blind
by writing red
Summary: A retelling of the classic love story of Eros and Psyche. Please read and give me your thoughts and suggestions! The later chapters do get more mature, just a warning.
1. Beautiful Jealousy

Bright sunshine fled into the tall columned palace of Mount Olympus that morning, however, Helios' happily shining rays did not reflect upon all of its heavenly inhabitants. The goddess of love and beauty sat at her vanity, the very picture of radiance and ethereal loveliness, save for the foul look that had set itself upon her face. With her arms folded tightly over her chest her lips pursed in irritation, she bristled as her mortal serving girl, Evadne, brushed her long, luxuriant tresses. A look of fear was etched upon the poor girl's face as her hands shook, knowing that one wrong stroke of the brush could send the goddess into a tirade. Growing frustrated with her servant's efforts, Aphrodite pushed the girl away.

"No more, Evadne! I tire of your presence. You may leave now," the goddess commanded sternly, pointing toward the door. The girl bowed and hurried away, prompting Aphrodite to feel a tinge of remorse. The girl hadn't done anything wrong, but damn it all, she wasn't in the mood to have a mortal around right then. With an exasperated sigh, she flung herself onto her chaise and stared moodily out the window.

"You do paint a very pretty picture, mother, even when you are angry," came a deep voice from the door. Propping her head up on her hand, Aphrodite looked to the source and gave a small smile. Eros stood propped against the door's frame, his arms folded as he watched his mother in amusement.

"Ah, darling. You've gotten my message," she murmured in her sultry tone as she stood, smoothing her silken gown. "I had begun to think that Hermes had forgotten, which wouldn't be entirely unbelievable." Smiling, she sauntered to him and kissed him on both cheeks.

Eros strode across the room, seating himself lazily on one of the overstuffed plush chairs. "No, he didn't forget, mother. Now what was so pressing that you felt the need to summon me from my work? Work that _you_ gave me, need I remind you."

Waving a hand at him in dismissal, Aphrodite paced across the room. "Yes, yes, dear. No need to be so rude to your poor mother. This is a matter of great importance." She stood at the balcony with her back to him, her golden skin shimmering in the light. "Have you heard of a princess named Psyche?" she asked, her eyes boring into the clouds where the earth lay beneath them.

Eros frowned, "No, I don't believe so. Why?" he asked, eyeing her with curiosity. She turned to him, fuming with anger.

"This royal little snit has been garnering quite a reputation among the mortals. It is said she is a great beauty, the most ravishing maid in the land. Do you want to know how beautiful they think she is, my sweet?" she asked, venom in her tone.

Eros' mouth went slack as he stammered, knowing a loaded question when he heard one. However, he was silenced within a moment as the enraged goddess interrupted him. "THEY HAVE PROCLAIMED HER MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN _**ME!**_" she thundered, the doves roosting on the railing of her balcony taking of in a panicked frenzy. Pacing the room, Aphrodite was a terrible beauty to behold, her fury seething forth from her lovely form. Eros was unsure of how to handle his mother. He'd seen her jealous side before, but nothing compared to this.

"It can't be all that bad, I'm sure this girl doesn't hold a candle to you. It's impossible, you _are_ the goddess of beauty, after all," he said coaxingly, offering her an enticing smile. This seemed to calm the goddess, who smirked in agreement as she smoothed her hair.

"Of course she doesn't," she agreed, " but the audacity of this girl has to be taken into consideration. This is why I've called you, darling," she murmured sweetly, perching herself next to her son. Eros watched her skeptically, one eyebrow quirked.

"What is it you need of me, mother?" he asked with caution. Aphrodite shrugged, a small, knowing smile crossing her face.

"Oh, not much more than to do your usual job. However, this time, I only ask that you set the dear girl up with someone…deserving of her beauty," she said with a malicious twinkle in her eye. "The man must be hideously ugly, simply to offset this girl's loveliness. You see, it just wouldn't be fair if the most handsome man were to marry the most beautiful girl. There wouldn't be any handsome men left for the less fortunate girls. And he might be of low status as well, perhaps a serving boy. Ohh, I can only imagine the devastation of her parents! Such a beautiful girl, wasted on a poor, ugly serving boy!" She giggled with delight at the thought of her plan coming to fruition as Eros frowned, staring at her in confusion. Her eyes alight, Aphrodite came upon another brilliant idea. "Better yet, my darling! Have her fall in love with a monster! Ahhh, how glorious! Imagine the poor lovely thing deluded into thinking she is in love with some beast. It's too perfect!" The goddess sighed as she fell back onto her chaise, laughing merrily to herself.

"Mother… Don't you think this is a bit too much?" he offered, only to be silenced as his mother bristled, her momentary gaiety quickly shifting back to anger.

"You would refuse me, son?" she spat, her sapphire eyes turning to ice as she glared at him. Eros relented, heaving a sigh.

"No, mother, never. I'll get it done as quickly as possible." He averted his gaze to the window to hide his disappointment, knowing that there was no way that his mother would allow him to deny her. Upon hearing her plan would go as she wished, Aphrodite was one again her charming, smiling self.

"Good, then it's settled. I knew that my darling son wouldn't fail me. Do let me know when everything is taken care of. You'll be back this evening, won't you, sweetheart?" she queried, straightening her son's tunic with affection.

"Yes, of course. Now if you will excuse me, I have your business to attend to." Eros replied with a wooden smile, giving his mother a kiss before he turned away. However, in his mind he still wondered whether what he would do would be justified. Surely this poor girl did not deserve the fate she would soon receive…


	2. Into the Cave

Sitting upon a large velvet cushion, Psyche stared out of her window, her large, expressive eyes seeming to emit a sadness that no girl of her age should yet know. Brushing a stray hair from her face, she closed her eyes to feel the gentle kiss of the breeze coming in off the Aegean upon her cheeks. Down the hall she could hear her two sisters chattering merrily, no doubt about the swarm of suitors that had accosted their home within the past few weeks. Though the pair were bitter that all of the young men were interested in their sister, they didn't mind settling for the ones that she had rejected. Psyche would've given them all of those strutting peacocks if she could, she didn't have the slightest interest in any of them. While it was all very flattering, she couldn't stand the pressure she felt to live up the standard that had been forced upon her. However, that pressure was incomparable to the myriad of emotions she was feeling now. Running a slender finger over the stone of the wall, she remembered it so vividly she felt as though she could relive that very hour…

Treading slowly up the thin mountain road, Psyche pulled her hood farther down upon her face, just as her mother had told her to. Her father strode ahead of them as her mother walked beside her, none of them sure of what to expect. They had left the palace early that morning, and her father had forbid anyone from following him, even his most trusted bodyguards. They had made the trek to the mountain by themselves, and Psyche had smiled to herself, thinking that this was probably the first time they had truly been alone. As they neared the entrance of the cave, Psyche's mother faltered, stopping dead in her tracks and taking Psyche's hand tightly in hers. Turning, her father gave the two of them a pained look.

"Now isn't the time to change your mind, ladies. We're already here. Please, Filia, don't frighten the girl any more." Looking from the queen to his daughter, his face softened with concern. "Everything will change after this, for the better," he stated with a confident smile. Psyche simply nodded, wishing she could say she felt the same, as the trio entered the cave slowly.

The cave was dank and had a peculiar odor that permeated the stagnant air. It was as dark as pitch save for a few candles that had been placed along the floor of the cave that cast eerie shadows against the rock. A shiver crept down Psyche's spine as she wondered if there might be any way to escape this whole ordeal, but her thoughts were cut short as they reached a small room at the end of the tunnel. The space was filled with candles, and a haze of incense hung around them. In the center of the room sat a small, cloaked figure, and somewhere on the floor there was a faint hissing noise. Psyche's mother gasped at the sound and clung to her husband, who put a comforting hand on her arm as he spoke.

"Are you the oracle we have come to see?" he asked warily, guarding the two women behind him. Beneath a thick black hood, the figure nodded. Again there was a hiss, and near the figure's side glowed watchful serpentine eyes. Psyche stared at the creature in silent horror, unable to move until she saw the figure itself move. Slowly it raised a bony, shriveled finger, beckoning.

"Come here, child," the oracle rasped. Psyche glanced at her parents with uncertainty as she moved forward. Kneeling, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the light before she saw the face beneath the thick black hood. It was impossible to tell how old the woman was, but she seemed to be as old as the cave she inhabited. Her skin was as fine as parchment, pale from decades without seeing the sun, and wrinkled carved their way through her fragile face. She had shriveled to the size of a child, and her hands were no more than bone and muscle covered in delicate skin. However, the most surprising thing about this small, ancient woman was her eyes. The wide orbs should have been staring straight into Psyche's, but where the pupils should have been there was only milky white absence. Extending her wizened hands, the oracle gently touched Psyche's youthful face, her hands tracing over the apples of her cheeks, her straight, thin nose, her eyelids, her heavy, silken hair. Unsure of what to do, Psyche sat very still, trying to steady her breathing while her heart raced wildly beneath her breast.

"Such beauty…" the old woman murmured almost reverently. Closing her wide, unseeing eyes, the oracle's brow furrowed as she raised a finger to her lips. After what seemed to be an eternity, the old woman finally opened her eyes and spoke in a voice that was far stronger than before. "This girl is not meant for a mortal man. She has much more in her future."

"More?" Queried the king, his regal brow furrowed as he stared at the two of them.

"You shall hear from me in time," the oracle said firmly. "Now go. I can offer you no more service at this time than I have now. Wait for my word." At that the oracle pointed toward the door, her snake stirring at her side as if to echo her command. Psyche moved cautiously to her parents as she stared at the old woman questioningly, her mother putting a hand on her shoulder.

Psyche was completely bewildered. What could this mean? Not meant for a mortal man? What else could there be, if not for a mortal man? Then she thought of it; she must not be meant to marry. Perhaps she was to stay a virgin and devote herself to Artemis or Athena. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach, and whatever hopes she'd had of marrying and having a family of her own were immediately crushed. As they left the cave, she remembered looking back at the oracle and seeing her thin lips stretch into a smile, her blank eyes staring straight into Psyche's before she could turn away.


	3. Dreaming

Weeks had passed since that day in the cave, but Psyche could not tear her thoughts from that small room and the woman who inhabited it. What could she have meant? Why couldn't she have said more? Questions bubbled forth in an endless stream as Psyche stared mindlessly out across the cerulean waters of the sea she loved so much. These reveries had occurred more and more frequently as of late, where Psyche would succumb to her thoughts completely and lock out the world, sitting as though she were lost within herself. Her parents watched in concern as day after day their daughter seemed to draw further away from the joyful, lighthearted girl she had been into a girl possessed by her own thoughts and troubles. It was as though she had already given into the life of desolation that she was sure awaited her, from what the oracle had prophesized.

"I knew we were making a mistake taking her to that old hag," Psyche's mother declared angrily, watching from the balcony as her daughter walked slowly across the courtyard of their palace, staring blankly ahead of her as she bypassed her favorite garden of irises. Thrusting a hand to her hair in frustration, Filia sighed as she turned to her husband, her eyes filled with regret and compassion. "It seems now that she's resigned herself to a fate worse than death. She's such an idealistic young thing, you know. She once proclaimed that a life without love was no life worth living." A sad smile spread across her face as she turned to the courtyard once more to find her daughter had left. Turning to her husband, she took his hands in hers. "Thanos, please," she murmured, " can't we forget all of this business about the oracle and just let Psyche marry one of her suitors? It isn't right to let her suffer like this, especially when we have no explanation why."

Thanos put a hand to his wife's cheek, stroking it lovingly. "I wish we could, darling. But you heard what the oracle said, she is not meant for a mortal man. I know that it's hard to understand, I don't understand it myself, but she is an oracle after all. I would not have gone to her if I didn't believe it would help. It will, darling, it will not have been in vain. And for that matter, Psyche showed no interest the suitors that came and offered for her hand."

"But she didn't have any time! All of those wonderful princes and lords who came, she just didn't have any time to get to know any of them!" Filia interjected, her brows knit. Thanos gave a knowing smile, shaking his head.

"She didn't get to know any of them because she didn't want to. She showed no interest. Personally, I was happy to see that she wasn't as silly as Medea and Phedra have been. Besides, from what I saw, none of them were worth her interest." Thanos said with a chuckle. Filia shrugged, her shoulders sagging.

"I know, I saw it as well. I just want my happy daughter back. It breaks my heart to see her sadness. And the oracle has not sent us any more information as she had promised. How long are we supposed to wait? Does she not understand our daughter's happiness, her very fate is in her hands?" Filia paced across the room, venting her pent up frustration toward the wizened prophet.

"I understand, Filia, I feel the same way. But there is nothing we can do. We must wait until it is time for her to tell us more. I'm just as confused as you are, but we must not allow ourselves to be angry about it. We must set an example for Psyche."

Filia nodded, setting herself upon one of the overstuffed chairs. "Yes, that is true. I just want to see her get angry, or fight, or do anything, rather than just…suffer so silently. It isn't like Psyche to just resign herself so easily."

Stepping out onto the balcony, Thanos cast a watchful eye toward Psyche's rooms. "I agree, but you must remember that Psyche is a strong girl. I'm sure there is much underneath the surface that we aren't seeing. She will work it out for herself in time." Filia joined her husband on the balcony and slid into her husband's waiting arms, wishing that Psyche could feel the comfort she felt at that moment.

...

That night, Eros flew toward the palace on the Aegean with a heavy heart. As a god who enjoyed love and all of its beauties, he found it to be an abuse of his powers to fulfill his mother's cruel plot. However, she was his mother, and she also wouldn't be above punishing him greatly for his disobedience, so that knowledge was enough to do her bidding. A monster, he thought wryly, will be hard to prick with an arrow. However, his mother might not have meant a real monster. Heaving a sigh, he knew the first step would be to prick the girl, then decide who her "love" would be.

The palace was really quite picturesque, its tall white columns standing erect and proud. Marble statues dotted the large courtyard, which displayed an intricate pattern of vibrantly colored tiles swirling around each other. The palace also had massive gardens which were in full bloom, their fragrance wafting gently upon the coastal breeze. Bright blooms of orchids, roses, lilies, anemone, hyacinth, and aster. Eros couldn't help but chuckle to himself, thinking that half of those flowers had once been people who had met their flowery fate by way of the gods. Silken curtains billowed out of the arched windows in rich jewel tones, splashing color against the stark white of the marble walls. Frowning to himself, Eros tried to determine which window might hold his unfortunate victim within its room. His vibrant blue eyes flickered across the palace until they landed upon a large arched window. It lead out to a small balcony, which was adorned with large vases of irises, and it overlooked the sea. He flew to the balcony and landed lightly, careful not to make a commotion. Stepping gently inside, he peered around the room and found himself looking upon the sleeping figure of the girl he was seeking. Moving toward her with quiet care, he stood over her bed and gazed down at the dreaming beauty.

He crouched beside her bed to get a closer look, and was instantly taken aback. With her head rested upon her arm, Psyche was a sight to behold. Her dark, ebony locks flowed over her back and shoulder like a waterfall of tumbling black silk. It shone like obsidian in the silvery moonlight, gleaming with every rhythmic breath she took. Her skin was fair and as fine as porcelain, its rosy glow highlighting her youthful, flawless complexion. Her silhouette beneath the blankets curved gently in the right places, her form slender and lithe. Her face seemed to tell the tale of her troubled dreams, her winged brows were knit together as she slept. Her nose was slim and straight, while her cheeks were stained with a coral blush. Her slightly parted lips were full and red, and beneath them gleamed straight white teeth. Eros found himself awestruck by her beauty, he couldn't take his eyes off of the ravishing young princess. He longed to see her eyes, which were rimmed in a heavy fan of soot black eyelashes. Giving into his inner battle, he reached forth his hand and softly caressed her satiny cheek. Psyche stirred and the young god froze, his hand still upon her face, unsure of whether to just stay still or to leave before she awoke. The girl's eyes fluttered open and she stared at Eros, who found himself unable to move. She gazed at him silently, and Eros couldn't help but be amazed by her eyes. They were the most astonishing color violet, the exact color of the irises outside her window. The two stayed that way for what seemed to be an eternity, looking deeply into each others' eyes in the quiet of the moonlit room. When he felt as though he could no longer stand the silence, he saw Psyche's lips come together in a sweet smile. She moved her hand to her cheek and place it on top of his. The touch of her hand to his was electric, like a jolt of lighting flowed through his veins when she laid her hand upon his. Breathing a sigh of contentment, she closed her eyes and went back to sleep. Eros breathed in relief; the girl had thought she was dreaming. He gently took his hand from beneath hers and laid her hand at her side. He stood and looked down upon her, utterly amazed. He, the god of love himself, had never known what love was like. He'd bestowed it upon millions, but had never experienced it for himself... until now. The way his heart swelled and raced when he looked at her, the way his stomach fluttered, the way her slightest touch could make him feel... Was this what love felt like? Whatever it was, he could never fulfill his duties now. Everything he had ever known about love had changed, just with this one girl. Allowing himself one last glance to her sleeping form, he turned and flew off the balcony and up into the dark skies.


	4. The Letter

Psyche awoke that morning feeling reborn. Stretching arms out, she padded to her balcony and drank in the beautiful scene before her. The air was crisply scented with cypress and salt, the sun shining upon the glimmering sea in all of its glory. She found it unbelievable that one could go through such a change of heart in only one night. The day before she had felt as though her whole world was crumbling beneath her feet, and now it was as though she were a whole new woman. Perhaps it had been part of that lovely dream she'd had the night before. How realistic it had seemed, the man before her, gazing at her in such a tender way as he gently cupped her cheek. It was strange to think she would fantasize of such a man in her dreams. Usually she was sensible and clear-headed, the expectations her sisters had of exceedingly gorgeous men coming and sweeping them off of their feet did not reach Psyche. Such dreams of grandeur almost seemed childish to her, it didn't matter about the most handsome man, merely the right man.

Pushing the dream-man from her thoughts, Psyche inhaled deeply the fresh air and smiled. No more moping, she decided resolutely. Depression was a heavy business, and frankly, she didn't have the heart for it anymore. She could only be sad for so long before it consumed her completely. Feeling as though a large weight had been lifted from her heart, she nearly danced back into her room, taking an elaborately bottled perfume from her vanity and dabbing some of its sweet fragrance upon her neck in a playful manner.

One of her serving girls, Phoebe, began to open the door ever so carefully, as not to disturb her lately distraught mistress from one of her moods. However, the she nearly dropped her pitcher of water upon entering the princess' room. Psyche had anticipated her maid, swiftly opening the door herself with a broad grin upon her face.

"Phoebe!" Psyche exclaimed, ushering the flustered young woman into the room. "Isn't it a simply brilliant day? Certainly not one to waste, I was thinking that perhaps we could gather a few people to go out for a picnic, what do you think?" the princess queried in a happy tone, taking the pitcher from her maid and pouring it into a bowl. Phoebe simply stared at her in amazement, totally oblivious to the question.

"I…ah…brought you some water, to wash with…" She trailed off, gesturing lamely to the empty pitcher. Psyche merely smiled and nodded, suppressing a laugh as she proceeded to splash some water upon her face.

With a swift, awkward bow, Phoebe hurried out of the room and nearly ran into another maid. "God gods, you'll never believe it!" Phoebe exclaimed. "The princess is herself again! I don't know what brought it on, but she's a sight to see, it's like someone breathed the life back into her. She's practically giddy, nearly scared the life out of me…" Phoebe went on, muttering the last part under her breath as she shook her head, going on with her work. The word passed from servant to servant, and soon it was known that the king's youngest daughter was once again her happy, smiling self.

Strolling down the large corridor, Psyche peeked into each room as she passed. The servants were busy with their morning duties, in one room were a pair of maids making up the bed. Together they were helping to put a large sheet on the bed, and as it flapped up and down it reminded Psyche of a great white sail upon a boat, fluttering in the gusts of wind. Sailing, she thought, would also be lovely. Her ears perked as she heard familiar voices from down the hall, and she saw her sisters turn the corner, laughing about something. She hurried to catch up to them, a smile still painted upon her bright face.

"Psyche!" Medea said in surprise, glancing briefly to Phredra and raising her eyebrows. "You seem to have had a miraculous turn around," she noted, her lips drawn into a thin smile. Phedra merely nodded, her arms folded over her rich gown as she watched her younger sister in amusement.

Psyche nodded emphatically. "Yes, I truly have. I woke up this morning and felt as though I had been renewed. I feel wonderful!" she exclaimed, her sisters once again exchanging cryptic glances between themselves and stifling giggles.

"Well, Psyche, that's wonderful!" Phedra declared, placing a skinny hand upon her youngest sister's shoulder. "We're _so_ happy to hear you've accepted your maidenhood," she oozed, "after all, it's _so_ very noble and all." Tilting her head, Psyche shrugged away any questions of how genuine her sister's congratulations were and simply accepted her 'compliment.' The two bade their sister a good day and went along, speaking to themselves in hushed, giggly voices.

Medea and Phedra had always been close, as the two oldest they were barely a year apart, while Psyche was a couple years behind. Though Psyche would argue until her face turned blue that her sisters were truly good people who loved her dearly, it was apparent to anyone who watched the three interact that there was a huge rift between them. While Medea and Phedra were lovely in their own rights, they were insanely jealous of Psyche's beauty, and even more so of the attention she had gained, especially with the young men. However, now that Psyche had been proclaimed a "spinster", as they called it, they basked in their own glory, knowing that they had free claim to any of the suitors that had once asked for their sister. They found it to be the ultimate irony, thought it was only fitting for their sister of such goddess-like beauty. Psyche, on the other hand, would not hear an ill word against them. They were her sisters, and she loved them.

Psyche continued on her way down to meet her parents in the dining hall, knowing they would be eating their breakfast, when she was suddenly stopped by one of her servants. "Amaranth, how lovely to see you! Was there something you needed?" Psyche asked, unsure of why the usually timid, soft spoken girl had stopped her.

"I, ahh….I was wondering…" she paused, her eyes shifting around nervously, "whether you…erm…had any more specifications for the garden?" she asked, the last bit blurted out rather quickly. Psyche raised an eyebrow, looking out through the large columns to the courtyard.

"Well, I suppose if you needed more suggestions, but I'm quite happy with it, really…and why do you ask, Amaranth? You don't work in the gardens." Amaranth's eyes widened and she began to stammer, fidgeting with her robes.

"Oh, yes, miss, I know that, it's just….the….um, the gardeners asked if you would like any other flowers for your balcony, and so I told them I would ask you," the young girl replied, her eyes fixed on the marbled floors.. Behind the serving girl a trail of the queen's attendants hurried into the dining hall. Psyche eyed them inquisitively, and then looked back to Amaranth.

"Oh, no, I won't be needing any more, I'm quite happy with what I have now. Thank you," she said with a kind smile as she began to make her way toward the commotion. Amaranth scurried in front of her once again, looking frantic.

"Oh, but…but really, miss? I was thinking we could just…just go out into the gardens and pick some more, I know how you love flowers…" she rambled on, desperate to pull Psyche's attention from the dining hall.

Surprised by the servant's insistence, Psyche frowned. "Amaranth, are you trying to distract me?"

At that the young serving girl panicked, shaking her head wildly. "N-no, miss, of course not…well, I mean… You just can't go in there," she said in desperation, pleading with the princess. Psyche gently pushed her way past the girl and headed to the large doors of the dining hall. Opening them with haste, what she saw on the inside astonished her.

At the large table sat her mother, heaving great sobs with her head in her hands. She was hysterical, her body racking with her impassioned weeping. Her attendants flocked around her, trying to ease her tears, but to no avail. Her father stood stoically at the window, his face etched with such sadness and grief. Psyche's mind raced with millions of questions and concerns, she had never seen her parents in such a state. She rushed to her mother, who upon seeing her daughter immediately gathered her into her arms and wept into her hair. Psyche looked around pleadingly to all of her mother's attendants, all of whom stood looking helpless and guilty. "What has happened here?" Psyche asked, utterly stunned.

Filia raised her tearful face to her daughter, looking deeply at her with all the sadness in the world in her eyes. Sheepishly, one of the servants came forward with a letter in her hand. Psyche rose slowly, taking the paper from the servant as her mother turned her face into her hands. Raising the letter with hesitation, she read.

"_As promised, I will now divulge what I have foreseen in Psyche's future. You must do exactly as I instruct, or all will be lost. You must take her to the highest point on my mountain and leave her there, wearing her bridal gown. There she shall wait for her betrothed; a great and terrible beast." _

The paper wafted to the ground from Psyche's hands as her heart sank to her stomach. She stared ahead as if in a trance, her hands still frozen in front of her as though she still clasped that fateful piece of paper. All of the other sights and sounds in the room seemed to fade away, only one thing playing again and again in her mind: _There she shall wait for her betrothed, a great and terrible beast._

She was to marry a monster.


	5. March to the Grave

It had been a week since the letter had arrived; that was the longest amount of time the oracle would allow. After receiving the message, King Thanos had stormed back to the old woman's cave and demanded an explanation, but she offered him nothing more than the fact that Psyche would not be harmed, and that she must be taken within a week, or the consequences would be dire.

Psyche had spent the week with her family, who were supportive and ever at her side. Medea and Phedra had left their selfish jealousy behind to try and comfort their doomed sister. Psyche's mother was a mess, her usually bright, lively face had drained of its natural glow and now was gaunt and drained, large dark circles hung like shadows beneath her eyes. She had taken to wearing black, and constantly carried a tissue with her to keep her brimming tears at bay. Even Thanos, a strong man who kept his emotions within check, paced the palace without hope or purpose. It had been a quiet week for the palace, and the usual gaiety had been replaced with the sad, impending knowledge of the loss of favorite its daughter.

There was not a dry eye in the entire palace upon the morning of Psyche's departure. Only the princess seemed to keep her emotions within herself. She sat stoically at her vanity as her servants slowly readied her. As Phoebe fixed Psyche's hair, one of the tears streaming down the young woman's face plopped upon the princess' head. Phoebe gasped as she sniffed loudly. "Oh, my lady, I'm so terribly sorry, I just can't help it…" she sputtered, as she furiously wiped at her face.

Psyche gave a grim smile, shaking her head. "It's alright, Phoebe, don't worry about it." Phoebe's fingers flew back to Psyche's hair, arranging the heavy dark locks with care. At Psyche's feet sat Amaranth, her wide eyes gazing up at her mistress.

"Perhaps it is not all as bad as it seems," the young girl suggested with encouragement. Psyche's face was thoughtful as she looked down at the girl, offering her a shrug with another sad smile. Phoebe bristled, kicking a foot out toward the young servant.

"Enough with you, you're bothering the princess. Out!" she commanded, protective of the princess' emotions.

"Oh, no, she doesn't have to leave…" Psyche interjected, but by then Amaranth had already scrambled away. Phoebe heaved a sigh, turning back to her work. She wished there was something she could say to the princess to ease her nerves, or to tell her that she would miss her, but that wasn't really her style. So she put all of her effort and concentration into finishing the princess' hair.

Finally after all of the pulling and primping was done, Phoebe pinned a gauzy white veil over Psyche's black tresses, and then stood back to appraise her handiwork. "You're done, miss," she muttered, sniffling into her apron. Psyche rose and looked in the mirror, finding a strange version of herself staring back at her. She seemed the very picture of a bride, but the beautiful silken dress seemed to mock her. It flowed gorgeously over her skin and pooled at the floor, giving off a gentle sheen with every slight movement. She had lost a shocking amount of weight in the time that had passed since she saw the oracle, so where the dress should have hugged her nicely, it simply hung. Instead of looking lovely and pure as a wedding dress should, its stark whiteness seemed to resemble a burial shroud. She stared at the false bride before her, the bride whose radiance had been sapped by sadness and stress, whose face was pale and drawn, especially in contrast to the black waves that framed it. She was the exact opposite of a joyous, beautiful bride; a woman who had longed and waited patiently for the day she would marry the man she loved. She was a ghost bride.

Filia had quietly entered the room as her daughter stared at herself in the mirror. How tragically beautiful she looked, she thought ruefully. And ironically enough, it was her beauty that had caused this in the first place. Her broken heart swelled as she watched her brave little princess prepare herself for her fate. How courageous she was, to give herself like this, and without complaint or rebellion. What she would give to take this burden from her daughter. While Thanos had said the oracle had assured them Psyche wouldn't be harmed, Filia felt no comfort. Psyche turned and looked toward her mother, and Filia noted how their brilliance had dulled. She rushed to her daughter and held her tightly in her arms, willing all of the strength left within her to the girl. They embraced in silence until Thanos came to the door, his face dismal. "It is time, my dears," he murmured, taking them on either arm.

The goodbyes were short, as Psyche had wished. If she spent any more time there she would lose her resolve completely. She kissed her sisters goodbye, embracing both of them tightly before they then turned into each other's arms seeking comfort. Once she had made her farewells, she and her parents climbed onto their horses and began their long trek.

They traveled on the horses for as long as possible, but partway up the mountain it became too steep and narrow, so her father's guard took the horses back down while the family continued on foot. The birds chirped merrily and soared through the blue sky, but to Psyche their chirping only seemed like noise, rather than music as it usually did. The sunshine was bright and glaring, as if its brilliance would keep the looming clouds away, but the mountain air stopped Psyche from feeling any of its warmth, and left her with a chill. As they trudged on, she felt as though she were making her own funeral march to her grave. It was as though all feeling and emotion had fled from her, and she was a walking corpse. Just beyond her, her father stopped as they reached plateau in the winding path. The flat area was barely the size of one of their small rooms at home, and it jutted out of the mountainside to reveal a massive canyon in between the range. The drop was staggering; anyone who was unfortunate to fall would never live to tell the tale. Above them the blue sky began to darken as the clouds swallowed the sun, choking out it's bright light. In that instant the whole world turned bleak, its life had been sucked out by nothing but complete and utter grayness.

Knowing that this was where they would part, Filia began to sob. She clutched onto her daughter, her tears staining the front of her daughter's gown. Thanos' composure broke as he tightly circled the both of them with his arms, resting his cheek against his daughters as his breathing became ragged with emotion. Psyche's chin quivered as two tears streaked down her gaunt face, traitorous to her resolve, but she would let no more emotion forth. She must be strong for her parents, if she broke down then they would never leave her. She could not let her family, possibly her entire kingdom; suffer on her account.

The family embraced each other until the impending storm began to rear its ugly head. With a gentle tug, Thanos pulled them all apart. Filia kissed Psyche's face tearily, gazing into her daughter's eyes as she whispered her goodbye. Thanos took his daughter's face in his hands, kissing her forehead and stroking her cheeks. "We _will_ see each other again," he told her, his voice rough. Psyche shook as her parents departed; her eyes trained upon them until they turned a bend.

When the rain began to fall she sank to her knees, allowing herself to break. Her tears fell in a steady stream as the rain blew in stinging sheets, and heavy sobs wrenched through her. The wind came in heavy gusts, whipping her dress around her as she stood again, squinting into the torrents. Where was this great beast? "I'M HERE!" She shouted, her hair thrashing around her in the battering wind. With one powerful gale, Psyche was bowled over the ledge, her arms flailing.

She shrieked as she fell, preparing for the rocks below with her eyes tightly shut, when suddenly she felt something catch her from beneath. Strangely, they felt like arms, strong as metal bands, and they closed around her protectively. She opened her eyes, and to her utter astonishment she found herself in the arms of a man, his face nearly transparent save for a soft shimmer that outlined his features, and they were blasting through the air on the force of the wind. As the world began to blur, she felt him lean his face down and whisper into her ear. "You're safe," he murmured, his voice like a soft breeze. The world streaming beneath her faded, and Psyche stared blankly at the strange, gossamer man until her head hung over to the side of his arm, succumbing to unconsciousness as her world went black.


	6. A Room with a View

**A/N: Of course I don't own Eros, or Psyche, but wish I did! However, I do claim the new character in this chapter! Sorry for the long paragraphs, I promise I'll try to do better with Chapter 7. Oh, and also, PLEASE review! I'd love to know what you all think! And to the ones who have, thank you so very much! I hope you all like the new chapter!**

She was sprinting, fast as her legs would allow, up the rocky mountain path. Behind her storm clouds thundered angrily, almost as though it were trying to speak through its monstrous booming. The lightning crackled at her heels, its forked fingers snatching at her tattered dress. Heart hammering wildly, she could not move fast enough to escape it…him... Just when she thought she might evade her that which pursued her, her foot hit a root on the path and she slammed to the ground, knocking the breath from her lungs. As she gasped for air, the oracle was suddenly there, smirking down at her. "It is your destiny," the old woman declared, her voice echoing in the cavernous space as her milky eyes bored through Psyche's very soul. "Your destiny…"

Psyche awoke with a start, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Her hair was matted to her face, and she felt as though she could not stop herself from shaking, though her nightmare was over. Taking deep, calming breaths, she wiped the sleep from her eyes, sinking back against the massive down pillows. When she had collected herself, she realized that she was not in her room at the palace, as she had assumed. The room was unbelievably spacious, and lavishly decorated.

The walls were colored the most astonishing color blue she'd ever seen, a mix of the sea and sky. Large vases of flowers provided splashes of color against the white marble floor, flowers so beautiful and exotic, even a lover of flora like Psyche had never seen such ethereal blooms. A large vanity stood against the wall, its top nearly overflowing with different powders and brightly colored perfume bottles. Bright light flooded from the arches that led to a large balcony, from the arches fluttered silken white curtains. Upon the ceiling was painted a scene of the heavens, on one side of the room a golden sun shone happily, surrounded by puffs of fleecy clouds. On the other side was painted a beautiful silver moon, adorned by gently glimmering stars.

The bed she was laying upon was enormous, big enough to fit her and perhaps another three. Upon the strong wood of the backboard was etched with a beautiful meadow scene, intricate enough to be a tapestry. In the meadow of tiny, carved flowers sat a maiden, lifting an elegant hand to a great stag. The picture seemed so real, the girl's features so incredibly lifelike. Blooming vines were also carved up the tall bed posters, and from the top of the bed a gauzy canopy hung over the bed like a shimmering cloud. Never in her life had Psyche seen such a lovely room, not even in her father's palace.

Slipping from the bed, she padded lightly across the pristine marble floors. Near the vanity sat a desk and chair, and upon the desk was a bouquet of freshly cut irises. Taking them into her arms, she breathed in their sweet scent and wondered if she was still dreaming. It was certainly a good possibility, she reasoned, noting a large closet, for what sort of beast would allow her a room like this?

There was a knock at the door, and Psyche immediately froze where she stood, the flowers still clutched in her hand. Ever so slightly, the door opened, and through the crack peered a young woman, her eyes alight with curiosity. Her breath caught as she saw Psyche, and she instinctively bowed, only to have the misfortune of knocking her head against the door. Psyche couldn't help but giggle as she rushed to the door, opening it to see the serving girl holding a hand to her forehead and muttering an oath, then slapping a hand over her mouth as she realized Psyche was watching her.

"Ohhh, my lady, I am so sorry, I didn't think you would hear…" she trailed off, looking dejected.

Psyche grinned, opening the door and ushering her in. "Don't worry about it! Is your head alright?" she asked, gesturing to where the maid held her forehead.

The girl nodded, sheepish. "Yes, mistress, I'm quite fine. I came to check on you, you've been sleeping for nearly two days. But its wonderful you're awake now, we were beginning to worry!" she exclaimed, a large grin on her face.

Psyche was taken aback. Two days? How could she have possibly slept that long? She sat at the desk, slightly overwhelmed. The maid noticed, racking her brain for a way to comfort her. "Oh, my lady, do not worry, you were well taken care of. The master had very specific orders that you were to be under constant care."

Psyche glanced around the room again, her lips pursed. "So this is my husband's home?" she questioned.

The maid nodded with a grin. "Yes miss, this is his palace. Do you like your rooms? He picked everything out himself."

Impressed, Psyche chuckled. "They're absolutely gorgeous. I've never seen anything like them." She paused, looking to the girl. "Are you to be my maid servant, then?"

The maid blushed, obviously bashful. "Yes my lady, do forgive my forgetfulness. My name is Hesper, and I'm to be your personal maid. Now that you're awake, would you like a wash?"

Psyche nodded emphatically, feeling particularly grimy after having gone two days without attending to herself. Hesper led her into an adjoining room, and the moment they entered Psyche gasped. It was the largest, most grand washroom she'd ever seen. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a huge washing tub, which had been formed into the shape of a shell. She gingerly ran a finger across the sleek porcelain and a glint of gold caught her eye. At the head of the tub was a strange, snake like piece of metal that was bent into a 'U', and beside it were two small handles. She looked to Hesper questioningly, and with a knowing smile, the maid flicked one of the handles and water began pouring out of the tube.

Psyche jumped back in surprise, looking back and forth between the tub and her maid. "Wha…how does…?" She stammered, pointing to the tub.

Hesper chuckled at Psyche's reaction. "It's running water. I believe the master is the only person to have it in all of Greece."

Psyche put her fingers underneath the water; ready to pull them back if anything funny came out. "How does it work?" she asked, awe-struck.

Hesper shrugged, setting herself upon the tub. "No idea. But it is absolutely lovely to bathe in. Would you like me to draw you a bath then, my lady?" she asked, suppressing a laugh as Psyche pulled the handle back and forth.

Psyche nodded, turning her attention to the numerous bottles of bath oils and soaps that were so neatly arranged she hated to touch them. Hesper pulled both handles until they were at the perfect temperature, then left Psyche to her bath.

As she lounged in the tub, Psyche's mind raced. This palace was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen, and she hadn't even left her rooms yet. Even this bathroom was positively gorgeous. The sandstone used in the floors and part of the walls cast a warm glow in the room, and on the walls were painted gorgeous sea-inspired murals.

On one wall Aphrodite was pictured emerging from the sea, her gown made entirely of sea foam. The goddess seemed to have such life inside her, and she was as beautiful as legend had said. On another wall was Poseidon seated upon his great throne with his triton in hand, his wife Amphitrite beside him. Sea nymphs, whose hair floated gently in the blue waves, surrounded the pair. Washing her hair with one of the soaps, she felt all of the trepidation that had flooded her dreams simply wash away with mindless bliss.

Once she was done bathing, she wrapped herself in a fluffy robe and walked breezily back into her room. Settling herself on a plush white chaise on the balcony, she curled up in the sunlight like a cat. Even the scenery was breathtaking. Below the ivory palace was a sea of wildflowers, brilliant bursts of purple, yellow, pink and white covered the entire valley. The mountains on the other side of the valley were like something from a painting, slumbering like stone giants with white caps of snow.

Hesper walked out to the balcony and curtsied, smiling to see her mistress so at ease. "I take it you enjoyed your bath?"

Psyche sighed, content. "I feel as though I've been put under a lovely spell, and frankly, I don't mind it one bit."

Hesper cast her eyes in appreciation upon the valley below them and sighed. "I have to admit, I've never seen anywhere like it in my whole life. However, my lady, I've come to ready you to see your husband this evening."

The word 'husband' shocked Psyche out of her reverie. She hadn't even given thought to him since she'd awakened. She sat up and began fidgeting with the large sleeves of her robe, and Hesper noted her hesitation.

"Don't worry, my lady. He is a kind and generous master. Besides, judging the lengths he went to to make you feel at home, I'd say he's got a soft spot where you're concerned." At that Psyche gave a reluctant smile, following her maid into her room.

Hesper's fingers were deft and quick as they flew over Psyche's hair, fixing this and pinning that as she readied her mistress for the evening. Looking at herself in the mirror, Psyche couldn't help but admire the gown they'd chosen. The closet had been crammed full of every possible shade, style, and fabric of dresses, each one more beautiful than the one before. The gown she wore now was a soft blue, the color of the sky during mid-day, accented with gold. She'd been inspired by her room, and felt blue was only fitting. The fabric seemed to float over her skin, and fit like a glove. Looking to Hesper through the mirror, she paused, unsure of whether or not to ask the question burning in her mind.

"Hesper?" she began, her tone timid, "Before I came here, I was supposed to have married…well, a monster." Hesper's eyes widened at the last word, but she remained silent, a look of concern in her eyes. "So that obviously led me to wonder about my husband. Please, tell me honestly, what does he look like?" She asked, desperate for any information she could get.

Hesper sighed, her mouth scrunched to the side in thought. "Well, mistress, I honestly don't know. I've never seen him. Truth be told, I don't know of anyone who truly has." Psyche's eyebrows rose. That was not the answer she had been expecting.

"You see, my lady, the master is quite a busy man. He's usually out on business during the day, and he'll be around the palace at night. However, he likes it kept dark so no one can see his face. He's certainly a man, for you can see the rest of his body, but never his face. It's the most peculiar thing." Toying with a curl, Hesper chattered on. "Of course, there are rumors. Some like to say that he's hideously ugly, and that he never shows his face from the shame. However, some of the people who've seen his body say that he must be positively beautiful, like a god, and he doesn't want the rest of us to see. Of course, those are usually the ninnies who are so crazy about men that no one takes them seriously." She added, putting a smile on Psyche's face.

The two chatted happily for hours, but as the sun streaked its way through the sky, Psyche couldn't help but think about her husband. What type of man was he? What would she say to him? Whatever it was, she would need to decide soon, for evening drew close, and with it came her first meeting with her husband.


	7. Meeting in the Moonlight

**A/N: I'm SOOO sorry for the wait! I've been on vacation for two weeks, and my computer had to be repaired, so I understand if you resent me for the abandonment. BUT, Chapter 7 is here at last! Please please PLEASE review, and of course, I don't own either Eros or Psyche, but I wish I did in this chapter! I'm hoping like crazy that it was worth the wait!**

She was shaking. Oh gods, how pathetic, she was shaking. Despite being a rational, levelheaded person, Psyche's imagination took flight as she fidgeted in her room, waiting for the arrival of her betrothed. Hesper had been a comforting companion for most of the evening, but at the last moment had been called away by another servant, leaving an uneasy Psyche to herself.

Checking herself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, Psyche paced to the balcony and leaned upon the railing with a great sigh. Perhaps he wasn't even there, and she had been worrying needlessly. Flopping onto her chaise, she gazed up to the heavens, admiring Selene's waxing beauty and wondering vaguely if the goddess was looking back at her as well.

There was a quiet knock upon the entry to the balcony, and Psyche looked up to see a smiling Hesper. "It's time, mistress," she announced, a knowing gleam in her bright eyes. Psyche's stomach flopped she stood, and with some inner prompting, she followed her maid out of the room and down the hall.

She wrung her hands together in anticipation as Hesper strode ahead of her at a brisk pace, leading her down the hallway. At the end of the hallway was a large, ornate door. At this door Hesper stopped, turning to Psyche. "He said he would meet you in here, my lady," she said with an excited tone.

Psyche looked from the door to the maid in desperation, but Hesper ignored her and nudged her forward. "It'll be wonderful, miss, don't worry about a thing." With a flourish, she opened the door and with a firm hand guided Psyche inside.

Psyche found herself in a room even larger than her own. Near a massive marble fireplace sat several plush, deep red couches trimmed in burnished gold, two of the predominant colors throughout the entire room. Over the fireplace was an intricate painting of a lovely couple seated in a field of brilliant red poppies. The man was leaning over the girl, placing a hand upon her cheek and gazing into her eyes so tenderly that their love for each other radiated from the canvas. So taken was she by the painting that she failed to realize what room she was in- her husband's bedroom.

As she studied it, a deep voice sounded behind her. "Lovely, isn't it?" Psyche froze where she stood, unable to move. With a gentle whoosh, the candles that lit the other side of the room went out. Turning slowly, Psyche felt her insides flutter as she looked toward the source of the voice. On the darkened side of the room, a man's tall form was silhouetted faintly in the moonlight. "Please, sit down," he said, gesturing to the couch behind her.

She squinted into the darkness, straining to see more of him as she sat upon the couch. "Are you…" she croaked, her voice momentarily escaping her, 'my h-husband?"

He laughed, and Psyche felt she'd never heard a more wonderful sound in the world. "Well, it would be more correct in saying that we are betrothed, little one, seeing as we have not yet been wed. But yes, I am he."

Finding her voice again, Psyche immediately burbled with questions. "But what of what the oracle said? She prophesized I would marry a great and terrible beast!" she exclaimed, hungry for the answers she'd been seeking for so long.

The figure sighed, putting a hand to his hair as he sat upon the large bed. "The oracle," he shook his head, seemingly exasperated, "she seems to have her own way of doing things. I suppose you could think of it as a test, before you could come here."

Raising an eyebrow, Psyche crossed her legs, a perfect picture of a dignified princess. "I didn't know a test was required to be your wife, " she blurted, her tone cool. Realizing how she must have sounded, she groaned inwardly. What a wonderful impression she must be making.

Again, her husband laughed. "I like your spirit, Psyche. I do believe that's one of the things I enjoy most about you." Once he said her name, she changed her mind. She liked the way he said it better than his laugh.

Shaking herself out of the momentary lapse into girlish swooning, she eyed him curiously, thinking about what he said. "You mean you don't like my beauty best?" she asked without a trace of vanity, genuinely surprised.

She could almost hear him smile. "Well, I admit that it was the thing I noticed first," he paused, thoughtful, then changed the subject. "Do you like your rooms?"

She nodded emphatically. "They're absolutely beautiful, I've never seen such lovely rooms. Thank you, for the time you took on them."

He seemed pleased to hear of her approval. With a surge of newfound confidence, Psyche rose and began to walk toward him slowly. As she neared him, she found herself inexplicably drawn to him. He in turn was frozen at her sudden decision to come closer, and with caution he backed his large frame more closely against the wall.

"Might we light some candles? I cannot see your face," she prompted, stopping when she neared the edge of the bed. So near to him, she could smell an exquisite aroma, sheer masculinity mixed with spices, it was practically narcotic.

At her request her husband remained painfully silent, staring at her as he stood, though his body language was tense. "I'm afraid not, my dear." He gestured for her to sit while he searched for the right words to say. "You see, though I wish it were different, you won't be able to see my face for awhile. That is why I will only visit you at night."

Psyche frowned. "But why?" she asked, utterly confused.

He heaved a labored sigh. "That I cannot say, But, I promise, soon we'll be able to see each other face to face." Looking to her with an apology written on his hidden eyes, he wished with everything in him that he could explain the whole situation and allay her questions and fears, but he knew to do so this soon was impossible.

Psyche looked upon him intently. Though she knew virtually nothing about him, she hadn't seen his face, nor would she for a while, and she had only just met him, she felt strangely calm and comforted in his presence. It was preposterous to feel that way after only just having met him, but she couldn't help but feel it. "So," she said, breaking the thick silence between them, "you know my name, but I still haven't found out yours."

Eros chuckled. Yet another question he could not answer. Thinking for a moment, he finally came up with a solution. "You can call me Evander," he replied, slightly impressed by his own ingenuity. For of course, the name Evander meant 'archer'.

"Evander," Psyche softly repeated to herself. "It is a nice name," she mused.

The air around them was charged, and Psyche could feel his gaze boring into her, melting her. The silence was practically deafening, and just when Psyche thought she could no longer stand it, he slowly lifted his hand. Psyche stared at it, her eyes huge as it drew nearer and nearer her face. Ever so gently, the large hand brushed a stray hair from her cheek, his fingers softly grazing her skin.

His touch was electric, sending a huge jolt all the way through her body. His hand lingered in hesitation, so close to fulfilling his desire to touch her again. Psyche's jaw dropped, and a small, strangled sound emitting embarrassingly from her throat. At that he checked himself and drew his hand back, locking it to his side. She slapped her had to her mouth and dropped her head, thoroughly mortified as her cheeks burned scarlet.

Eros couldn't help but smile at her reaction, his mind racing with the thoughts of all of the nights to come after this first. Oh, how much he had to look forward to.

"I must leave now, but I will visit you again very soon," he told her as though he spoke a solemn oath. Psyche merely nodded, looking up to him. Tenderly, he brushed her hair behind her ear and held her face for a moment, and with great reluctance pulled it away, his heart smiling as he watched her depart.


	8. Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed, I appreciate your comments more than you know! So please, keep em' coming! As for this chapter, well...Let's just say I'm excited/nervous to see the reviews for this one! Enjoy! Oh, and also, I don't own Eros OR Psyche, sadly enough for me. **

**Oh, and a side-side note, EvanderEros. It switches around a bit, because Psyche only knows Eros as Evander, but any time you see the name Evander it means Eros. Okay, I'm done now, happy reading!**

When Psyche arose the next morning, she found her thoughts to be lingering on the meeting she'd had the night before. A small smile touched her lips as she thought of how inexplicably drawn she'd been to him. And then at the memory of her awkward little squawk when he had touched her cheek made her cheeks burn bright red, and she slapped a hand to her forehead. What a fool. You would think that a man had never touched her! Well truthfully, no man ever had touched her, except for her father and a few of the preening peacock princes who had tried to woo her. She lifted her hand to the cheek he'd touched and the smile spread into a silly grin.

As Psyche's mind was occupied with thoughts of the night before, Hesper walked in and noted the look on her mistress' face. With a muffled giggle, she cleared her throat, breaking the princess' momentary reverie. "Did you have a good time last night, my lady?" Hesper asked, her tone coy.

Psyche blushed prettily and nodded, chuckling to herself. "Yes, it was quite nice," she replied simply, trying not to appear too eager.

Hesper groaned, spinning the desk chair around to face Psyche. "Oh, come now! There must have been more to it than that, I know that look on your face."

Losing her cool composure, Psyche grinned broadly. "Oh, Hesper, he's not at all what I imagined! I cannot describe what it is like to be around him, I felt as though I were enchanted, but not in a bad way, like I couldn't help but be a little closer to him, be in his presence just a little more. And the way he speaks to me is so kind, and almost…familiar, in a way. It's as though he's known me far longer than I've known him." Psyche spoke a mile a minute, and Hesper chuckled at her mistress' obvious excitement.

"I'm happy your first encounter with one another went so well, my lady. I have to admit, I was a little worried, considering the circumstances, but it's wonderful that things have gone so well!" Helping the princess out of her bed, she readied Psyche for the day.

Psyche spent the day roaming through her new home, exploring. She'd never seen so many grand rooms, so much gold and silver and priceless gems. No expense had been spared on this palace of dreams, though she could not keep herself from wondering what funded this magnificent place. She knew that most men with this sort of money were born into it, however from what she heard in the gossips, he was always out working during the day. A working nobleman? Perhaps he was even more than a nobleman, judging by the luxuriousness of the palace. Nevertheless, the idea was ludicrous.

The staff was very kind and always willing to bend over backwards to please her, obviously at Evander's orders. While walking through the castle with Hesper, she noted how efficiently the palace was run. "It's practically like clockwork," Psyche observed.

Hesper nodded, pleased. "As any good household should be. Especially considering that the staff has only been working together for about a month now, but the master spared no expense and hired only the best."

Psyche turned to her maid and frowned. "Only working together for a few short weeks? But how can that be? Most palaces like this have been running for years and years."

Hesper pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well, the master had purchased the palace and hired us about four weeks ago. In that time, the palace was being readied, the rooms being redone and furnished to his exact specifications. All for you, princess." Psyche couldn't help but blush, an annoying habit she seemed to have picked up lately, and Hesper laughed. "It would seem, my lady, that you have quite an ardent admirer in your future husband."

Psyche's mind swam at Hesper's comment, the corners of her mouth upturned. "I do hope so, Hesper, I do hope so."

The rest of the day was spent in Psyche's favorite spot in the palace; the gardens. Filled with exotic, fragrant blooms in every shade, Psyche felt as though she were in one of the gardens on Mount Olympus, rather than an earthly garden, for the blooms were so ethereal and lovely that she couldn't ever imagine them blooming from the dry Grecian soil. As the sun set and nighttime neared, Psyche's heart fluttered. The closer night drew, the closer she felt to him, as though Selene coaxed him from hiding. Peering into the mirror and scrunching her nose at her reflection, she made sure her hair was all in place, which it was, and had been all day.

Perched gingerly atop the railing on the balcony, Hesper waited along with her mistress, and was nearly as eager as Psyche was. When there was a knock on the door, Hesper flew off of the railing, her long legs carried her swiftly to the door. There was a brief exchange of hushed words, and when she closed the door again, her large hazel eyes held the message that Psyche had feared would come. "I'm sorry to say, my lady, but unfortunately the master cannot make it back to you this evening. He sends his apologies, and asks your forgiveness," Hesper recited, her tone apologetic.

Psyche's shoulders drooped as she sat back onto the bed. "Oh, it's alright. I wasn't expecting much anyway," she lied, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. How foolish to be disappointed, she scolded herself internally, what did you suppose he would do? Have a night of wonderful conversation before he swept you off of your feet? This is what comes from silly thoughts like that! He is just your betrothed, that doesn't mean he's in love with you.

As Psyche gave herself a stern, silent talking to, Hesper sat beside her on the bed and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "Don't think on it too much. I should've warned you, the master is away on business quite often, sometimes for days on end. He'll most likely be back within the week, if not sooner." Psyche looked to the girl and nodded with a reluctant smile. That night Psyche's dreams were filled of thoughts of the mysterious man who called himself Evander.

As Hesper had predicted, Evander did not return right away. But each night he was gone he would send Psyche notes, apologizing for being away and promising to return soon. He would sometimes send her little gifts, and one morning she awoke to large bouquets of irises filling her room. In the meantime, she and Hesper grew into fast friends, for Hesper was the only diversion she had in a large palace filled only with busy servants. She also managed to get a general sense of how her grand new home was laid out, which was a relief, for she had often found herself lost within the large palace. For the most part, she and Hesper spent their days outside in the garden, basking in the sun's loving rays.

As it neared a week of Evander's absence, Psyche found herself alone in her room. Hesper had gone to attend to some things around the palace as Psyche bathed, and now she sat on the balcony gazing at the moon. Her long dark hair rippled down her back in thick, heavy curls, bathed in silver by the moonlight. Her chin was tipped up to the heavens in reverence for the night sky's sheer beauty, and she took a deep breath inward, feeling so calm and at peace.

"What a beautiful picture," a voice behind her murmured quietly, as not to frighten her. She knew the voice in an instant, and her heart leaped. She turned to face Evander's large, shadowy figure. He leaned against one of the posters of her bed, openly admiring her. To her irritation, she felt herself flush again.

"Excuse me, sir, but I do not believe I know you. Have we met before?" she asked, her brows knit together in wide-eyed confusion, though her voice was coy. Eros chuckled, his laughter a low rumble.

"Alright, alright, I get it." He lowered his head, contrite. As Psyche neared him, he took her hands in his own, "I'm so sorry for leaving you alone for so long. I truly didn't mean to be away that long," he apologized, his tone more serious this time. Psyche barely noticed as the silken curtains fluttered closed behind her, obscuring more of the moonlight from seeping into the room, and also obscuring her view of him.

She was touched by his apology, and somehow she knew that he wished he had been there just as badly as she did. "Thank you," she replied, inclining her head. "It wasn't so bad, I suppose. Hesper and I found ways to divert ourselves, we quite enjoyed the garden."

Eros quirked an eyebrow at her, a smile playing upon his lips. "Well then, if you and Hesper were enjoying yourselves without me, then maybe I should leave you two to have the palace to yourselves once more!" He enjoyed teasing her solely to see the laughter dance in her eyes.

Psyche laughed, shaking her head. "To be quite honest, my lord, I would rather you stayed here, with me." Her reply cut through the joviality and hung over them like a thick blanket. They stood there, hands still clasped tightly, staring through the darkness at one another.

"You would have me stay, then, my princess?" he asked, his tone husky. Psyche stared up into his face, yearning to see what lay behind the dark space between them. She nodded, unable to speak, only to gaze at him so intently that he felt she could truly see him. Moving slowly, he brought his hands up and gently cupped her face. One hand held her cheek as the other smoothed her hair from her forehead, his fingers lingering on her temples as they lightly caressed the skin of her cheek all the way down to the top of her neck and the soft under part of her chin.

He was unhurried as he held her face there, his other hand moving behind her neck. However, she was completely frozen, as though her body was made of lead and all she could do was stand there, though she willed herself to do something…anything. But her mind stopped racing as she saw the silhouette of his head nearing hers. Closing her eyes instinctively, she felt his breath come in gentle puffs against her skin as he lingered just inches away from her face, his thumb caressing her cheek gently. She waited for what seemed an eternity until finally she felt his lips upon hers, cool and gentle. Her breath caught in her chest as he kissed her, tenderly but unyielding. His mouth moved softly upon her lips, but as it was her first kiss, she couldn't help but feel painfully inexperienced.

He realized he should avoid going too far, as not to frighten her with anything too sudden, he reluctantly pulled his lips from hers. She remained in the same position she had been, her eyes closed as she leaned up toward him, her lips now slightly parted. His heart swelled at the sight of her, so open and welcoming to him. Moving his hand to her hair, he twined his fingers in its silk as he held her to his chest, caught in a moment too sweet, too precious to give up.

Psyche felt as though she were in Elysium, for nothing she had ever experienced had been so utterly wonderful. She moved her arms around his waist and held him lightly, a small, satisfied sigh emitting from her as she did. With her head pressed to him, she could feel the laugher vibrate in his chest. He groaned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Oh, my dear girl, you will be the end of me," he stated affectionately, playing with a dark curl.

"I do hope not, for I fear that I would be quite lonely," she replied, muffled into his chest. Again, laughter rumbled deep in his chest. He squeezed her gently, then pulled her back to look at her.

"Perhaps I should leave more often, I like the greeting I get when I come home," he said slyly, her response a playful little pinch. "Come, shall we go for a walk through the palace?" He asked, offering his arm in the most gentlemanly fashion. She took it daintily, perching her arm atop his and laughing. The couple strolled through the palace, talking well into the night and until the morning, where Eros left his princess with the promise to visit her again the following night.


	9. Passions Revealed

**A/N: Another long break, I know, but school's made me incredibly busy, so please bear with me! However, I haven't forgotten about this story, and I'm happy to give you all a new update! Thanks SO much for your reviews, they make posting new chapters worth the effort! As to some of your questions, I'm happy to answer!**

**Fae: I laughed when I read your last review, yes, she was wearing clothes! I just forgot to add that in, hehe.**

**Sapphire Warrioress: The palace is in Greece, tucked away in the mountains where the gods won't think to look. I'd imagine there's also a little magic concealing the palace from any passers-by. **

**Again, thank you so much for your wonderful comments, it does my poor little stressed-out heart good, and thank you especially to those of you who have been faithful readers! A little note as to this chapter, I've been reading quite a few romance novels lately (guilty pleasure!), so this chapter gets a little steamy! But honestly, who doesn't want a little romance in a story like this? I hope you all like it, and please post your reviews! I _crave _your opinions! Enjoy! **

As he had promised, Psyche was visited by her husband that night, and nearly every night for the following two weeks. The pair grew closer with every encounter, and became fast friends. However, "friends" is not perhaps the right word for them, for each night the chemistry between them grew, as did the tension. Before Psyche had come to his palace, Eros had decided that he would take things differently with his future bride. He would get to know her before he let himself seduce her, for she was certainly an innocent young thing. However, with each passing night, he found his restraint tested as it had never been before. Psyche was an incredibly alluring young woman, and though she had no previous experience with men, she was able to tempt him nearly beyond his control.

A fire blazed in the massive fireplace before them as they sat together on the plush couch in Evander's room, casting a rosy glow around the room, save for, mysteriously, Evander's head and neck. Psyche had become rather disillusioned by the enigma that shrouded her husband and his home, for so many mystifying things had happened there that she simply became used to the magical atmosphere. Smiling down at her, he kissed her on the top of her head lightly. "I think it is high time that we were wed," he announced as he stroked her arm lightly, his tone casual yet decisive. Broken out of her momentary reverie, Psyche's eyebrows shot up in surprise as she turned around to look toward him. "Wed?" she parroted, tilting her head inquisitively.

Evander chuckled, nodding. "Well we are affianced, are we not? I wished to wait until you felt more comfortable with me. Now that you are, I believe that we can proceed with the wedding."

Staring into the darkness at him, Psyche's eyes were wide with surprise. They were finally to wed. Funnily enough, the thought had slipped from Psyche's mind. The way they had come to meet was so unusual that all other conventional ideas of marriage and weddings had simply vanished in light of this new situation. An uncomfortable little cough from Evander caused Psyche to realize that she had been wrapped up in her own silent thoughts for too long, and laughter burbled up from deep inside. With a merry giggle, she nodded eagerly. "Of course," she answered with a brilliant smile. "When shall we wed?"

At her agreement, a wide smile spread across Evander's own face. "I was hoping that the wedding could be next week," he replied, noting her concerned expression. "I know that it is quite soon, but my servants are more than capable of preparing the palace in that time, and Hesper will aid you with whatever plans you have, and whatever you need to be done," he assured her, taking her hands in his.

Leaning back with a small sigh, Psyche's thoughts ran wild. A wedding in a week! The planning alone would take all of the spare time she had, not to mention all of the preparations for the palace, and the guests. Though she would certainly be put to the test in pulling this wedding together, she knew that Evander would be there at the end of the day to assure her that it was all worth it. With a little laugh, she sighed, shaking her head. "All right, then the date is set. Though," she went on, looking toward him with a slightly embarrassed smile, "I still can't help but wonder why a man like you would want to marry someone like me anyway."

Her little admission shocked him. Staring at her intently, he couldn't think of a reason not to marry her. She was the kindest, wittiest, most genuine woman he'd ever met, and was as beautiful internally as she was on the outside. For one of the first times in his long existence, Eros found himself speechless. This enchanting creature before him had completely taken him under her spell. Rather than explain it to her, he would show her. The firelight dimmed until only embers glowed, and Psyche noticed him leaning toward her and his hands circling her waist, pulling her closer to him. The glowing of the dying fire was equaled in his eyes as his smoldering gaze held her own, the two of them inexplicably frozen in that moment. His hand cupped the back of her neck as he lowered his head, touching his lips to hers. Psyche closed her eyes, and let the thrill of his touch flow through her. His lips moved on hers gently, yet more insistent than the last time. Psyche moved her hands up to his chest, feeling the strength of his taught muscles beneath her as she slid her hands upward and twined them behind his neck, closing the small space between them and molding herself to him.

The sensation of her body so close to his was electric to Eros, whose response was more explosive than even he could've realized, Shifting her onto her back, he leaned over her and deepened the kiss, his hands shifting down her sides over the silk of her dress. Psyche was nearly beyond her wits at the sudden onslaught of Evander's passion, her hands moving restlessly upon his broad shoulders and back as their lips met and clung. His tongue touched her lips lightly, persuading them to part, and when they did Eros was nearly drugged with the sweetness of her mouth. Passion burst forth from deep within Psyche, and with a moment's hesitance, she returned his ardor as her tongue met his. A low groan emitted from Evander's throat as she did so, and the kiss grew wild. His hands slid down to her backside and pressed her close she could feel the intensity of his need for her.

Psyche was breathless as her fiancé kissed and caressed, fervor burning through her veins like fire as she felt an inexplicable need, though she knew not what for. His body beneath her hands was similar to warm marble, like one of the statues of the gods brought to life. The planes of his body perfect and angular, strength and power emanating from his muscular physique. His hands wandered back up her sides, brushing gently against her breast, and a small moan emitted from her lips. That little sound brought Eros back to reality, and reluctantly he pulled himself away. Looking down toward her, he had to keep himself in check at the sight of her, all flustered with her eyes full of need. Eros groaned again, cursing himself both for taking it too far, as well as having to pull away, and then stroked her cheek tenderly. "I'm afraid we'll have to stop there, darling," he murmured, his voice rough and low with passion. Panting slightly, Psyche merely nodded, her mind still reeling from the intensity of his kiss. Eros rose, instantly missing the feeling of her body being so close to his, and he took her up in his arms. Carrying her down the hall, they remained silent, staring toward each other. He opened the doors to Psyche's room and with a few long strides closed the distance to her bed. Laying her down gently, he placed a chaste kiss upon her forehead. "Until tomorrow, my love," he murmured.

Leaving her to herself, he closed the door and headed back down the hall, every inch of his body alive and violently aching with need for her. Despite his longing, Eros grinned. He knew the week before the wedding would be a task, but the outcome was worth the wait. Making his way out onto his large balcony, he called out into the night, his voice commanding. "ZEPHYRUS," he bellowed. A sudden gust of wind swelling around him, and as the air settled, a man stood before him, tall and imposing with hair as dark as the night, his eyes the turbulent, wild grey of a stormy sky.

"You called?" he remarked sarcastically, his arms folded over his brawny chest.

Eros rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself. "Yes, actually, I have a favor to ask of you."

Zephyrus, god of the West wind, sighed. "Another one? It seems I'm doing you a lot of favors lately. First bringing that beautiful little plaything of yours here, which I must admit was a treat," he added, a wicked smile on his lips, "and now this. What, I ask, is in it for me?"

Eros' perpetual grin grew even wider. "Well, would being invited to the wedding count as a good form of repayment?" he queried casually.

Zephyrus paused, his smirk wiped away as he regarded his old friend. "Wedding? What news is this?"

"I'm going to marry her, Zephyrus. I will marry her and then convince Zeus to make her a goddess. I know he will, he has a weakness for beautiful women."

"Marry her?" Zephyrus repeated, shaking his head. "But she's a mortal, Eros. We don't marry mortals. And even if you do, what will Aphrodite say?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

Eros sighed with impatience, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "I don't care what my mother thinks, she doesn't rule my life. I shall marry whom I choose, and I choose Psyche," he replied stubbornly. "I love her, Zephyrus," he added, his voice softer.

Zephyrus smiled. Well well, he thought, the god of love himself actually _in_ love? It must be true. "If that is the case," he replied, "then it would be my pleasure to bring the happy news to Olympus. Hermes can take a break on his messenger duties just this once. When is the union to take place?"

Eros laughed, clapping his friend upon the back and giving him a brotherly hug. "Next week. And there is a certain, ah, dress code to be upheld as well," he added, filling Zephyrus in on the rest of the details. The two gods bade their farewells and Zephyrus was off in another gust of wind. Smiling to himself, Eros happily contemplated the day when he would make Psyche his wife. Moments later, from far, far away, he could hear a horrible, gut-wrenching scream. Immediately knew his mother had just been told of his wonderful news.


End file.
